


Visits

by yourebrilliant



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Alternate Universe, F/M, post—hogwarts
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-12-28
Updated: 2012-12-28
Packaged: 2017-11-22 18:56:20
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 404
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/613128
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/yourebrilliant/pseuds/yourebrilliant
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>She visits him twice a month.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Visits

She visits me every two weeks; no more or less often than she visits any of the other ex-Death Eaters under her charge. But how _long_ she visits me for, well, that’s different. I doubt, somehow, that she takes a turn around Crabbe’s rose garden.

She says I need more attention than the others. She always says it with conviction, but she won’t meet my eye and I know as well as she does that it’s a lie. I have plenty of time to ponder the real reason, between her visits, and I’ve come to the conclusion that my illness has stirred her overdeveloped sense of compassion. She won’t let anyone, even me, die alone.

When I’m in a reflective mood, I like to consider how far we’ve come, and to wonder. What if my time in Azkaban hadn’t made me ill? What if my beloved wife hadn’t gone first? What if my son had been speaking to me? Would I have been too prejudiced to accept her friendship if I’d had anyone else to go to? In the end I decide it doesn’t matter. It only matters that she’s there; twice a month, without fail.

I think the Healers have told her how long I have to live. I know she won’t tell me outright, but I can’t help but check. At the end of every visit, I always have to ask.

‘Will I see you again, Miss Granger?’

She always gives me the same look, amused that I’m still asking and disappointed that I think she’ll tell me.

‘In two weeks, Mr Malfoy,’ she replies.

I’ll never tell her, but I fear the day she’ll say ‘No’.

Sometimes, and with increasing frequency, my son’s visits coincide with hers. He always waits behind when she comes, hiding in the library while we go for our walk. Later, when she’s leaving, he lingers on the porch talking to her. I can see them, from my room, and I wonder if they know; if they’ve admitted how they feel.

When he returns, I ask him what they were talking about. He won’t tell me, but he always smiles at the thought of her, and that’s enough for me. Because I know; I know that someday she’ll say ‘No’. I know that one day I’ll be with my wife again, and I hope that, when that happens, Draco won’t be alone; because she’ll be with him.


End file.
